


Where Your Heart Never Leaves

by cienna



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7669456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cienna/pseuds/cienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas Eve plans are gone awry when Dick comes down with a serious illness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Your Heart Never Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Elise Madrid as part of the Batfam Christmas Exchange 2013.

It’s early on Christmas Eve when Dick first feels it. A strange twinge in his side, starting in his lower abdomen and spreading down his body, radiating into his leg. He methodically goes through everything he’s done in the past week, trying to think if that area of his body had been punched, kicked, poked, or slammed against anything, and he comes up with a lot, but nothing focused on that area of his body. He decides to ignore it and see if it goes away. Maybe he’s just pulled a muscle.

By the evening he is almost doubled over in pain, trying to hide it from everyone else during dinner. He doesn’t want to ruin their Christmas by making them worry. It’s getting harder and harder though, and just the thought of eating makes the pain even worse. Damian stares at him suspiciously as Dick moves roast beef and mashed potatoes around on his plate. Finally a particularly bad wave of pain makes him knock over his water glass.

“What’s wrong with you, Grayson?” Damian demands. “You look like you’re doing the bathroom dance or something.”

“I’m fine,” Dick replies through clenched teeth. “It’s just a headache.”

“I can get you some medicine, Master Dick,” Alfred says, sounding concerned.

“I don’t think medicine would help. I’m just going to go lie down for an hour or two before patrol.” Dick pushes his chair back to stand up and his body fails him. Before he knows what’s going on he’s flat on his back on the floor with Titus licking his face.

Bruce has been silent throughout this entire exchange, but somehow he is at Dick’s side first and helping him up, with a gentle hand at Dick’s back. Dick risks a glance at Bruce’s face to see if he is disappointed in him, but it’s unreadable as usual.

“You’re going to take some medicine, Dick, and go to bed. Damian will go with me on patrol.”

“I’ll be all right,” Dick protests. “If I can just get an hour or two of sleep I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Fine isn’t good enough, Dick.” Bruce says. His voice is gentle, but it still makes Dick feel like crap. Things between him and Bruce have been really tense lately and he isn’t sure why or if there’s anything he can do to make it better. Dick reluctantly leans against Bruce as Bruce helps him sit up, his hand lingering on Dick’s lower back.

Suddenly a sharp wave of pain rushes through Dick’s side and he can’t stop himself from moaning. Bruce’s hand tightens against him and Dick can’t help but want it to stay there even with the pain threatening to overwhelm him.

“I think you may need to look him over, Alfred. This seems like more than just a headache.”

“I definitely agree, Sir.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Damian pushes past Bruce to help support Dick’s other side.

“If I knew that, Damian, I wouldn’t be having Alfred examine him.”

Dick tries to concentrate on their words, but they seem to be fading in and out along with the waves of pain. It’s all he can do to put one foot in front of the other as Bruce and Damian lead him back to his bedroom. He pretty much collapses on his bed, pulling himself into a fetal position. The room seems strangely colder than usual and he realizes that his body is shaking, teeth chattering as he struggles to pull up the blankets.

“At least take your shoes off, Grayson,” Damian says, and when Dick doesn’t respond Damian starts taking them off himself. “Don’t think I’m putting your pajamas on.”

Dick manages a laugh at that, but it ends up just making his side hurt more and his laugh turns into a moan. He feels Bruce’s hand cool against his forehead and leans into the touch.

“You have a fever, Dick.” Bruce takes his hand away and Dick squirms in unhappiness. This day really isn’t turning out the way he wanted it too. He hears Bruce talking softly to Alfred in the corner, but he can’t hear what they’re saying. Finally Alfred comes over to him and makes him take some painkillers and drink some water.

“Maybe I have the flu,” Dick says hopefully. He knows it’s been going around Gotham lately. It’s that time of year.

“It’s a possibility,” Alfred says. “I’m going to do some tests and keep an eye on you for the next few hours.”

“We’ll see you later.” Bruce heads towards the door, but then seems to hesitate, walking back over to Dick’s bed. Dick tries to look less pathetic than he actually is, but all he can manage is a weak smile, as Bruce reaches down and pulls up his covers, tucking him in like he’s a small child. Dick groans and hides his face. That isn’t exactly how he wants Bruce to think of him. Bruce finally turns to go and Damian quickly grabs Dick’s hand and then says, “Feel better,” fiercely, like it’s an order. It makes Dick smile in spite of the pain. That’s the last thing he remembers before he drifts off.

***

When Dick wakes he has no idea what time it is, but he’s hooked up to some sort of machine that makes annoying beeping noises. It’s dark in the room and he can’t seem to focus on anything. “Bruce…” he says hesitantly.

“Don’t move, Master Dick. We’re monitoring your pulse and respiration,” Alfred says calmly. Apparently he’s been watching over Dick from the armchair in the corner.

“For the flu?” Dick is incredulous. Surely this is a huge overreaction.

“It’s not the flu, Master Dick. Your breathing slowed to the point of stopping at one point. If no one had been here you might have been in serious trouble.”

“I almost stopped breathing? But I feel… better.” It’s true. The pain in his side is almost completely gone. And he doesn’t feel as cold as he did before so surely the fever has gone down.

“That’s because of the medicine you were given,” Alfred says. “It’s lowered the fever and reduced your pain. But it hasn’t solved the real problem.”

“Which is?”

“We aren’t sure yet. But it looks like something is attacking your system. It’s like nothing I’ve seen before. The computer can’t seem to identify it.”

“That definitely…doesn’t sound good. Where could I have picked up something like that?” Dick goes back through his activities from the last week, but can’t think of any place where he would have been exposed to people that sick.

“You didn’t just pick it up, Master Dick. This is deliberate. You’ve been deliberately infected with this virus.”

“By who?”

“We don’t know yet. Master Bruce is looking into it.”

“Well I seem to be better. Maybe the virus has run its course?”

“I’m afraid not.” Alfred meets his eyes for a moment and then looks away. “I fear it’s going to get much worse if we can’t find something to stop it, Master Dick.”

Dick takes a deep breath. “I’m sure Bruce will figure it out. He always does.”

“I’m certain he will too.” Alfred pauses.

“But?” Dick asks.

“But, I’m afraid we have limited time, Master Dick. Your body can only withstand so much.”

“How much time?” Dick asks softly.

“There’s no way to know. But I think only a matter of days if things continue as they are.”

Dick doesn’t reply. He isn’t sure what to think of this new information. He’s been close to death many times before, but never from an illness. A virus isn’t something he or Bruce can fight, something they can work together to defeat, or escape from. This might not be something Bruce can fix. He thinks about it and decides that he’s okay with that.

“If I die, I die. I know Bruce will figure it out in time.”

Alfred smiles. “You have a lot of faith in him. You should tell him that more often.”

“We haven’t been talking much lately. He always seems angry at me about something.”

Alfred moves over to adjust his IV. “His feelings for you are complicated, Master Dick. Sometimes he doesn’t express them the way he should.”

“Yeah, I know.” He thinks Bruce cares about him. Loves him even. As a son he knows he’s been a disappointment, but maybe Bruce can one day think of Dick as a partner. Someone he can rely on. A trusted ally. Even if Dick wants to be more than that. He remembers the warm feeling of Bruce’s hand on his back and holds onto it.

“You should sleep, Master Dick. You need to keep your strength up.” Dick doesn’t fight it. He can feel himself drifting off.

***

When Dick wakes it’s to horrible nausea, his stomach heaving, and before he can stop himself the entire contents of his dinner seem to have ended up on the floor beside the bed.

“Dick, it’s okay.” A warm hand is rubbing circles on his back and a wave of red hair appears in his line of vision.

“Babs? What are you doing here?”

“Alfred called me. Hang on a minute.” She wheels herself into the bathroom and returns with a glass of water and a towel. She hands him the glass of water and then throws the towel over the mess he’s made on the floor.

He grimaces as he takes a sip. “Sorry about that.”

She grins at him. “It’s not your fault. In any case I’m sure you’ve held my hair back while I puked once or twice.”

He leans back against the pillows trying to keep the nausea at bay. “Not in a long time.” He generally tries not to think about their failed relationship, but sometimes it feels like the thing in his life he regrets the most.

“You’re right, it has been awhile. Sometimes I miss those days. Not the puking, obviously.” She takes the glass from him and then covers him with the blankets. “Alfred asked me to look after you while he helps Bruce.”

“Did he find something?” Dick asks, trying not to get his hopes up.

“I’m not sure. I know he’s been trying to identify who infected you with this virus and why. I think he may have some leads.”

“I’m sure he’s disappointed that I managed to catch something like this.”

“I don’t think that’s it, Dick. It’s been a long time I’ve seen him so upset, and it’s certainly not you he’s upset with. I’m worried that he’s a bit off his game.”

Dick frowns. “What do you mean?”

Babs sighs and reaches over to check his temperature. “Sometimes he lets his emotions get in the way.”

Dick looks up at her, surprised. “That doesn’t sound like Bruce.”

“He cares about you a lot, Dick.”

“Yeah, well, we haven’t been getting along so well lately.”

She laughs. “So what else is new? Maybe you need to make more of an effort. He’s a little emotionally stunted in that department.”

“I don’t think I can help with that.” It’s all he can do to have a civil conversation with Bruce these days. Bruce is always curt with him and never lets Dick get anywhere within his personal space. Never mind if he goes so far as to touch him. The nausea becomes too much and suddenly he is vomiting again, this time into a bucket that Babs has conveniently put near the side of the bed.

“Dick, look at this.”

Babs’ voice sounds horrified, but Dick can’t seem to find the energy to respond. She holds the bucket up and he sees the reason for her reaction. He’s been vomiting blood.

***

Dick isn’t sure how much time has passed when he wakes up again. Time seems to have no meaning for him in the darkened room. The nausea is gone, but his fever seems to have gone up again and with it the pain in his side has come back. He can’t seem to control his shaking. Suddenly a small hand is adjusting his covers.

“Are you okay, Grayson? You’re shaking a lot.” Damian’s voice is steady, but Dick can see the fear in his brown eyes.

Dick struggles to form words. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just… cold.”

“Do you want another blanket?” Damian asks.

Dick nods because it’s easier than talking. He doesn’t think another blanket will help, but it couldn’t hurt.

Damian goes to the closet and returns with another blanket, layering it on top of the many blankets already over Dick.

It actually does help a little and Dick manages to stop his teeth from chattering long enough to speak. “Where’s Babs?”

“Father needed her help.”

Dick wants to ask if any more progress has been made, but can’t seem to form coherent words. The whole world seems to be blurring together and he thinks for a moment that he can see dark creatures lurking in the shadows. He’s about to ask Damian if he can see them when the boy starts talking.

“Remember when you and Father went on patrol last week and helped that homeless kid? The really dirty one? Well Father thinks he was ordered to infect you somehow when you were carrying him. You always were careless with children, Grayson.” Damian gives him a dirty look, like he should have known that the tiny five year old was out to kill him with a lethal virus. When Dick is too weak to respond he looks away guiltily and continues, “Anyway, I think Father has the guy behind it now. They’re trying to produce an antivirus.” Damian presses his hand against Dick’s forehead. “How can you be shivering, Grayson, you’re burning up! Maybe you need less blankets instead of more.”

Damian starts trying to pull blankets off the bed, but Dick catches his hand. “I’ll be okay, Damian,” he manages to whisper.

“I never said I was worried, Grayson. Anyway you shouldn’t talk.” Damian calls for Titus and then has him jump up on the bed so he’s pressed against Dick’s side.

Dick leans into the warmth. It’s soothing and he finds his eyes starting to slip closed. He can hear Damian continuing to talk, like in a dream.

“Father’s acting really weird you know, Grayson. He was really laying into that guy who had you infected. It’s like he was losing control.”

Dick is pretty sure that Damian says more, but he can’t seem to focus enough to hear it.

***

He awakens to the sound of faint arguing, that gradually seems to fade into his consciousness.

“But I’m not sure if I should…”

“It’s you he needs, Master Bruce. You need to sort out these issues between you and him once and for all.”

“I’m just not sure if now is the right time. He’s still weak.”

“Respectfully, Sir, it’s never going to be the right time if you are the one deciding.”

Alfred must have won the argument because the next thing Dick sees is Bruce in the room beside his bed. He just stands there looking at Dick for a minute and Dick feels the heat rise in his cheeks. Just when the silence is getting to the extremely awkward point, Bruce asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Dick says, and it isn’t even an exaggeration. He’s no longer in horrible pain, freezing, burning up, or nauseous. He just feels tired and weak and achey, like he’s recovered from a particularly bad bout of flu. He tries to push the covers back and sit up, but stops when he feels light-headed.

“Take it easy,” Bruce says. “You’ve been very sick for a long time.”

“How long?” Dick asks.

“Just under a week. If we hadn’t found the antivirus when we did…” Bruce’s voice sounds gruff and Dick notices that he isn’t looking his best at the moment either. His lip is split, and he’s looking pale and tired, like he hasn’t slept in a very long time.

“But you did find it.” Dick says. “I’m going to be okay.”

“You are.” Bruce’s voice sounds unsure, like he’s trying to convince himself that it’s true.

Dick takes Bruce’s hand. “I am,” he says firmly. Bruce covers Dick’s hand with his own for the briefest of moments and then moves it away.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and out of these dirty clothes,” Bruce says.

Dick groans as he looks down at his sweat soaked pajamas. Clearly he had been changed out of his clothes from dinner at some point, but he has no memory of it. Could it have been Babs? Or… he looks at Bruce and a rush of heat goes through his body at the thought of Bruce undressing him. “I can do it myself,” he quickly says.

Bruce says nothing in response, just lays his clean pajamas and underwear on the bed beside him.

On second thought, having nothing but sponge baths for a week has left Dick feeling more than a little grungy. “Actually, do you think you could help me to the bathroom? I’d like to have a shower.”

Bruce helps him stand up on then puts his arm around Dick's shoulders to support him when Dick discovers that he’s too weak to actually walk by himself. “I think a bath may be a better choice, Dick,” Bruce says pointedly and sits him back down on the bed while he goes in the bathroom to run the bath.

Dick forces himself to remain calm. Bruce is only trying to be helpful. He has no idea the kinds of feelings awakened by even such a brief touch.

Finally the bath is ready and Bruce helps him into the bathroom. He looks uncertainly at Dick. “Can you get those clothes off by yourself or should I…”

“I can do it!” Dick says hastily. But when Bruce tries to let him go, Dick can’t seem to take his hands off the wall for long enough to get his shirt off. He makes a small noise of frustration.

“Should I get Alfred?” Bruce asks, and Dick can tell that he’s trying to make things easier, and not just for himself. Bruce is actually making an effort. Dick needs to stop being ridiculous and let him help.

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry to be such a pain.” Dick sits down on the toilet lid and lets Bruce help him remove his shirt. Bruce’s hands against his chest are gentle and Dick feels guilty for enjoying it more than he should.

“You’re not a pain, Dick. You almost died. I’m sorry I couldn’t get the antivirus to you sooner.” From the tone of his voice it’s obvious that Bruce blames himself for what happened and for some reason that shocks Dick, although it really shouldn’t. Bruce is kneeling on the floor beside him, but is no longer able to meet his eyes. Without thinking, Dick reaches out to touch Bruce’s face gently.

“Hey. This isn’t your fault. You’re the reason I’m alive.”

Suddenly there is a flash of heat in Bruce’s eyes and everything seems to become clear to Dick in a moment of pure shock. How did he not see this before? It only takes the slightest of movements, just a fraction, to press their mouths together and for a terrifying second Bruce makes no response. His lips are soft and warm against Dick’s but seem to be frozen in place. Then Dick nudges him with his tongue and Dick is no longer afraid he has misinterpreted Bruce’s feelings. At first it is gentle, almost chaste, but then it is like a dam has broken and Bruce is kissing him heatedly. Hard desperate kisses that make Dick wish that he was in more of a condition to respond. He breaks the last kiss and presses his face against Bruce’s hair, a little breathless.

“I’m sorry, I took advantage…” Bruce’s voice is rough and sounding a little too close to the edge for Dick’s liking.

“No.” Dick moves away just enough so that he can meet Bruce’s eyes. “I want this. More than anything.” He maintains eye contact, willing Bruce to see the truth in his words. “It’s just that my body’s not up to it right now. But if you could help me with that bath?”

“Of course.” Bruce’s eyes don’t leave his and Dick knows that he’s convinced him. Bruce helps him finish undressing and then gently lowers him into the bath. But it’s only when Bruce takes Dick's hand and presses his lips gently against the palm that Dick finally feels warm.


End file.
